


Home is Where the Devil Lives

by Headfulloffantasies



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blind Character, Canon Disabled Character, Daredevil - Freeform, Emotional Talks, Misunderstandings, Spider-Man - Freeform, amazon alexa - Freeform, matt's stunted emotions, matt's super senses, new apartment, peter parker's new apartment, real men cry, smart home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 09:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Headfulloffantasies/pseuds/Headfulloffantasies
Summary: Peter loves his new apartment! The only problem is that Matt hates it.





	Home is Where the Devil Lives

Peter’s new apartment was a dream, a castle, compared to the rat hole he’d been living in. He had a second bedroom! And a kitchen without vermin. And a bathroom that actually fit a sink next to the shower and toilet. The only problem was that Matt hated it.  
Peter dragged a half conscious Daredevil in through the fire escape after a brutal smack down with Kingpin.  
“You’re lucky this place is so close,” Peter griped. “You wouldn't have made it to Hell’s Kitchen.”  
Daredevil didn’t respond, too busy bleeding profusely from a knife wound to the ribs. Peter thumped through the window onto his orange rug.  
“Alexa, turn on the lights and raise the heat to 20 degrees.”  
“Turning on the lights,” the robot voice answered.  
Matt stirred, tipping his head to the side. “Who’s that?”  
“Alexa, say hi to Matthew.”  
“Hi, Matthew.” Alexa echoed.  
“You have an AI?” Matt slurred slightly.  
“Nah,” Peter said as he got Matt settled on the couch. “It’s an Amazon smart home. It turns on the lights and connects to the internet and stuff.”  
Peter dug his first aid kit out from under the kitchen sink and padded back to Matt.   
“Take this,” Peter held out a couple of painkillers.   
“I don’t want ‘em,” Matt groaned, twisting on the couch.  
“Trust me, you will. I am awful with a needle.”  
“You sew your own costumes.”  
“That is fabric. Why does everyone think sewing skin is the same thing?”  
Peter coaxed Matt into taking the pills. He peeled back Matt’s suit and swore.   
“Don’t bleed on my couch, it’s new.”  
“It smells like cat.”  
“It’s new to me.”

Peter finally finished the stitches and sat back to admire a bad job done with good intentions. He passed Matt his phone.“You’re staying here tonight. Call Foggy and tell him you’re not going into work tomorrow.”  
Matt shook his head, trying to push himself up on his elbows. He got about halfway there. “I’m fine. I’ll make it.”  
“You will not. It’s freezing out.”  
“No it’s not.”  
Peter crossed his arms. “Alexa, what’s the current temperature?”  
“It is currently 2 degrees Celsius.”  
Peter splayed his palms to silently say “I told you so”. It wasn’t wasted on blind eyes.  
“I don’t care.”  
“I do. I will not be responsible for my lawyer dying of pneumonia.”  
Peter moved into the kitchen to give Matt some privacy.  
He shouldn’t have bothered. Matt on drugs didn’t know how to control his volume level. Peter heard Matt’s entire side of the conversation.  
“Come and get me,” Matt hissed. “I hate it here.”  
Ouch. And yeah, there was a layer of sarcasm in Matt’s voice, but no more than he usually buttered onto conversations.   
Peter was hurt. How long had he and Matt been friends? Did Matt hate his other apartment too? Duh, Parker, even you hated that apartment. But then what gives? The new place was dope. There was running water that wasn’t brown. Maybe it wasn’t about the apartment, maybe it was Peter. Nope, not going there, that hurt too much.  
When he was done being hurt Peter was angry. Not everyone could afford penthouses and silk sheets, Double D. Some of us are just happy to have a place to hang our mask.  
Matt stayed the night on the couch, but Peter wasn’t sure he’d actually slept. There were deep purple bags under the bruises on Matt’s face in the morning.  
“D’you mind if I put on the radio while I make breakfast?” Peter asked as he pulled his skillet out of the cupboard. Matt made a wavy hand gesture of deference.  
“Alexa, play my radio station.”  
“Turning on the radio.”  
Matt flinched as the announcers came on.   
“-whereabouts unknown. And in other news, the vigilante Daredevil was spotted with Spider-man last night at the docks. This reporter wonders if the two have formed a superhero swim team. That’s all for me, folks. Tune back in to Hero Watch after the break for our hot take on the Hulk’s dating life.”  
“What is this?” Matt asked.  
“Hm?” Peter hummed as he cracked an egg into the frying pan. “Oh, it’s Hero Watch. They report on street level heroes like us.” Peter ducked his head. “I know it’s silly to listen to what people say about Spider-man, but it’s kind of a parody show? They make up ridiculous stories.”  
They listened to the rest of the show, laughing until Matt’s stitches pulled.   
Peter left for work, assuring Matt that he could stay on Peter’s couch as long as he needed. When Peter came home he was disappointed to find his blankets folded neatly at the end of the couch and no trace of Matt anywhere.

A week later, Matt swore up and down he was well mended and ready to go bust some heads.  
“Alexa, call Matt.”  
“Calling Matt.”  
“Hello?”   
“Are we going out tonight?” Peter asked, hopping on one foot as he tried to pull his sock on.  
“Are you putting on socks?” Matt asked.  
Peter froze. “Yeah, how’d you know?”  
“I listen to 3000 people a day putting their socks on. I know a sock hop when I hear it. I also know what it sounds like when you trip and smash your coffee table. Sit down and put your socks on like an adult. I can be ready to go in ten.”  
“Meet me at my apartment?”   
“I’ll be on the roof.” Matt agreed.  
“It’s cold. Meet me inside.”  
“Roof. Ten minutes.”  
“Call ended.” Alexa announced.  
Peter glumly stared about his apartment. He liked it. It was soft, all done up with lots of blankets in the living room and lacy blue curtains in the kitchen that Aunt May had helped him pick out. It was comfortable. So what was Matt’s problem?  
“Alexa, does my apartment smell?”  
“I do not have a nose,” Alexa said. “I have seventy one internet results for getting rid of smells if you are interested?”  
“No thanks,” Peter said, heading to his room to change into the Spidey suit.

Peter moaned to MJ about it in the Starbucks by her loft.  
“Matt hates my apartment.”  
“That’s because he’s bougie trash.” MJ said without looking up from her vanilla latte.  
Peter was scandalized. “He is not!”  
“He makes his own granola and won’t use brand name fabric softener. He’s bougie.”  
That wasn’t fair, Peter knew. Matt was sensitive. He made his own food because tasting other people’s hands was gross. He used natural based fabric softeners because the artificial smells in brand names gave Matt headaches.   
“Does my place smell?”  
“No, but your couch reeks of cat.”  
Dang it. 

Aunt May’s birthday was next Sunday. Peter had been planning a surprise party at his apartment, and the only thing that would prevent him from going through with it would be an alien invasion.  
All that was left to do was send out invitations. Because Peter was an exemplary millennial, he sent a group text invite. He left Matt a voice mail invitation specifically so Matt wouldn’t have to deal with Peter’s copious emojis.   
Peter sat on his saggy cat couch and watched the RSVPs come in.   
Alexa suddenly said, “New voicemail.”  
“Alexa, play voicemail.”  
Matt’s tinny voice filtered from Alexa’s speaker. “Hi Peter. I’m not going to make it to May’s party. I’ve got an appointment out of town that day.”  
Peter deflated.   
This had gone on long enough.  
The next night, Peter went up to the rooftop to meet Daredevil.   
Matt swung up over the ledge, his red suit dark as blood in the twilight.  
“Hey kid.”  
Peter tugged his mask off. “Can I talk to you as a real person?” He asked.  
Matt copied him by removing his mask. “What’s up, kiddo?”  
Peter forgot how weird it was to watch Matt’s milky eyes search him out. Matt always settled his gaze close to eye contact, but he tended to miss by a bit, staring at people’s left ear or their nose.  
“You really can’t make it Sunday?”  
“I have an urgent appointment I can’t reschedule.”  
Uh huh. Likely story.  
“I know you hate my apartment.”   
Matt stiffened.  
Whoops. Secrets are supposed to stay on the inside of mouths, Peter. But now that it was out of the bag, why not air it out?   
“Does it smell? Is it too loud? Is it too cold? Do you not like my cow salt shakers? Are the blankets not soft enough? I can get better blankets.”  
“Peter,” Matt stopped him. “It’s not about the apartment.”  
Peter’s stomach dropped. “You don’t like me.” The tears that sprang to his eyes surprised him. “It’s fine, I get it-,”  
“Kid, listen with your ears, not your mouth,” Matt snapped.  
Peter swallowed hard, nodding.  
Matt scrubbed the back of his neck. He was flushed all the way to his red hair. “Your A.I. freaks me out.”  
Peter blinked. “Alexa?”  
“Yeah. She’s listening to everything, but she’s not really there.”  
“She’s not spying on us, Double D.”  
“I know that!” Matt rubbed his hands together, looking very lost. Just this once, Peter did the smart thing and stayed quiet.  
Matt started again. “Alexa talks and it’s not right. I can hear the dissonance in her voice. And it’s like there’s a whole person in the room, but I can’t find her heartbeat, she doesn’t breathe, or smell, or have body heat. She’s like a ghost.”  
“Oh.” Peter said. He never considered that Matt’s abilities might cause him pain in the absence of stimuli. “What do you want to do about it?”  
Matt shrugged. “There’s not really anything I can do. I’m just going to have to get used to it.”  
That didn’t seem fair. Peter had a long think. “What if I turn Alexa off when you come over?”  
Matt tipped his head to one side. “You don’t have to do that.”  
Peter shrugged. “Sure I do. I want you to be comfortable in my home. You’re my friend.”  
“I’m officially triggered,” Matt snarked. “This conversation has reached my emotional limits for the week.”  
“So you’ll come on Sunday?”  
Matt glared at Peter’s ear. “I told you I have a meeting, kid. I’m not avoiding you.”  
“Oh good. I love you too. Come here and give me a hug.”  
Matt jumped off the side of the building.

END


End file.
